


Parting Waves

by MercurialComet



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: 1930s, Blacktober Baby!!!!!!, Bonding, Gen, Hair Braiding, I'm just guiding us to the logical conclusion, I'm talking about the Black hair!!!, Mentions of Racism, Talking, Uncle Rick said she's from the 30s, black percy jackson, that baby hair with baby hair and afros. if you will.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialComet/pseuds/MercurialComet
Summary: What Hazel and Percy talk about when she cornrows his hair for the first time.----“Maybe I’ll actually look like a Seaweed Brain instead of a sea urchin.”“I thought your hair would be more like tentacles, with freeform locs and all.”
Relationships: Percy Jackson & Hazel Levesque
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Parting Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello, this is for Blacktober, Perseus Jackson is Black in this fic.

Don’t get Hazel wrong, she adores her friends. She loves them a lot, that’s why she’s usually in charge of the monthly Argo II reunions, making sure that there is at least a free morning and evening for everyone so that way it’s a proper sleepover.

But Percy’s hair is so nappy. So so nappy. It’s driving her insane.

So this time, she’s come prepared.

“Do we have to-”

“Yes,” she says, cutting off the son of Poseidon as she drags him towards a chair. “Yes, we do. Because as much as I love you, refuse to let your hair get any worse.”

Percy pouts, and Hazel rolls her eyes at the attempt to get out of this. “Just sit in front of the chair, Percy. I promise that this won’t take too long. Maybe an hour.”

“But that’s forever!” He says, still taking a seat on the floor. Hazel sits in the chair behind him, centering herself and grabbing a wide-tooth comb. Percy whines as she starts to try and detangle his hair.

The comb barely moves. “Jesus, Percy,” Hazel grunts as she finally gets it through the first part of his hair, “do you even do anything to your hair?”

“I brush it,” Percy says, shrugging his shoulders.

Hazel frowns. “Your hair’s too long to brush,” she tells him, now more gently working through his hair. “You need to comb and pick it out now.”

“I know that, but like, consider this-”

“I’m considering.”

“It takes so long.”

Hazel pauses, taking the moment to stand up and make eye contact with Percy. “If you want, I can cornrow it so you won’t have to do much with it for a while.”

Percy looks like he’s thinking about it for a bit. “I’ve always wanted to try it,” he says. “Maybe I’ll actually look like a Seaweed Brain instead of a sea urchin.”

“I thought your hair would be more like tentacles, with freeform locs and all,” Hazel admitted as she sits back, wetting the teeth of the comb in a bowl before getting back to the task, dutifully combing through more and more hair. It takes a few moments, but soon she’s finished, grabbing a pick and starting to pick through the thick coils, pulling them out of their tight spirals. When she was finished, Percy’s hair was a little past his ears, and when she sprayed it with water, it fell around his face really well.

“You know, it’s been a long time since my hair’s been like- wet wet,” Percy admits, and Hazel can believe that. She still remembers when he threw out an arm and exploded the water cannons in New Rome, reminiscent of a Roman god as refracted lights and shadows danced on his skin, a shade or two lighter than her own.

“You have a really good curl pattern,” Hazel told him as she grabbed a rat-tailed comb, tapping it against her lips as she planned where to part the hair and how many cornrows to give him. “I’m somewhat jealous of you. You do practically nothing and your hair is still somewhat healthy. I forget one hair mask and my roots want to punish me.”

Percy laughs. “Oh, my mom says the same thing! After the summer with the Labyrinth, we went swimming in the pool, and she told me that it would be strange if my hair wasn’t slightly damp to remind me to actually let it get wet.”

“You went swimming at a pool?” Hazel asks.

“I mean, it was the one a few blocks away, at the YMCA, but yeah,” Percy says, yawning as Hazel finishes parting a section of hair, using a hair tie to keep it together. “You’ve gone swimming before, right?”

“Uh, I couldn’t really go swimming in New Orleans. Not in a safe pool at least. 1930s and all that.”

Hazel hears Percy’s sharp gasp and quiet hiss of, “Oh shit!”. “I’m so sorry, I forgot-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she says, holding his head still so she doesn’t jab him with the comb. “It’s not so jarring anymore, I can handle the 21st century. Mostly. Neon lights still hurt my eyes.”

That got a short laugh out of the taller demigod. “Nice to know,” he says. “But, I’ve heard a lot about how life was like back then.”

Hazel ties off another section. “Do you want me to talk about it?”

“If that’s not too much or anything-”

Hazel laughs, shaking her head as she continues to section off Percy’s hair. “Gods, I feel like a grandmother now,” she complains.

“You are like, the oldest one out of all of us.”

“Hush, chile. I need to focus.”

A beat passes before the two of them start laughing. In the moments that they do, Hazel finishes her sectioning, and grabs the container of coconut oil that she had to run and get quickly. “Okay,” she says, unscrewing it and placing a small dollop of it on the back of her hand, “tilt your head back so I can at least get a row in while I talk.”

“Yes, Grandmother Hazel,” Percy chuckles, looking up at the ceiling.

Hazel undoes a section of hair, starting at the front of Percy’s head and braiding towards the back. “It was complicated,” she starts. “There was the whole World War 2 going on, and a lot of people were drafted. Honestly, my first memories are of my mother getting a lot of business as people went to her for good fortunes.”

“Although, I did always think that Neptune had to be racist.”

Percy started coughing, probably choking on his spit. “What? Why?”

Hazel shrugs, finishing a braid. “A lot of people drowned. Shoved into lakes because all of the swim teachers were in the white part of town and the white people knew that they wouldn’t get in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t much different in Alaska,” Hazel continues, working on another. “I actually brought down the giant by throwing us into the sea. He couldn’t move, and neither my mother or I could swim. We all sunk like rocks.”

Hazel finishes the second and third braid in silence. She moves Percy’s head so that she could get to the last two sections. “Perce?”

“Yeah, I’m here-” Percy waved his hands, “It’s just- That’s a lot, Hazel. Are you okay?”

“I’m better now, although if you want, I could tell you some horribly funny stories about how I did not trust Jason when I first met him,” Hazel says, trying not to laugh. “Nico did not do a good job at telling me how the world’s changed over time.”

“That must’ve been the worst,” Percy says.

“It was! Looked like he hopped right out of every ‘good American boy’ character I had ever seen.” Hazel smiles and continues working on the fourth braid. “But I got a lot better after seeing everyone in New Rome. I still side-eye a lot, but it’s better now. And you were actually a big part of it.”

“Because I proved that Poseidon wasn’t racist?” Percy asks, and the two of them start laughing for a few moments.

“No, there were a lot of white guys with Black kids they’d never meet,” Hazel says simply, as if it was a normal day. “There was actually a running bet amongst the elders that if someone played their cards right, they could be the first Black millionaire.” She finished the fourth braid, starting the fifth. “It was actually seeing you control the water. Made me a little less afraid of it.”

“Nice to hear,” Percy says, yawning. “I, uh, I didn’t actually grow up with a lot of other Black people. Not a lot of good people in general, now that I think about it. Monsters and Smelly Gabe and all. This is nice.”

Hazel smiles as she finishes the last braid. “That’s nice to know, Percy,” she says, stretching her arms quickly before pulling up a piece of reflective metal for Percy to use as a mirror. “How’s it look?”

“Looks good, Haze,” Percy says, tilting his head to check everything. “Do we have anything to wrap it up with?”

“I have a blue durag?”

“That works.”


End file.
